And now Job refuses to waste any more words on his opponents.
But as for me, to Shaddai would I speak,
I crave to reason with God;
But ye—are plasterers of lies,
patchers of that which is worthless.
Your commonplaces are proverbs of ashes;
your bulwarks are bulwarks of clay (xiii. 3, 4, 12).
He forms a new project, but shudders as he does so, for he feels sure of provoking God thereby to deadly anger. Be it so; a man who has borne till he can bear no longer can even welcome death.
Behold, let him slay me; I can wait [be patient] no longer;[[23]]
still I will defend my ways to his face (xiii. 15).